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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145347">A Soldiers Death</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain'>naturallesbain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a sad ending, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, War Fic, author says fuck sodapop curtis and steve randles feelings in this story, details of blood and injuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:28:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145347</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I knew that we'd die there. I knew that sitting in those trenches, guns in our hands, smoke and dampness clouding their air that we wouldn't be going back to Tulsa. Sodapop was in front of me, eyes forward, most likely wide with fear, though he wouldn't try to fall back or step down. My eyes bore into the back of his head, begging him to turn around so maybe I could see his face, see the hollowed-out man he had become. </p><p>-</p><p>Comments and kudos are v appreciated</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sodapop Curtis/Steve Randle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Soldiers Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I knew that we'd die there. I knew that sitting in those trenches, guns in our hands, smoke and dampness clouding their air that we wouldn't be going back to Tulsa. Sodapop was in front of me, eyes forward, most likely wide with fear, though he wouldn't try to fall back or step down. My eyes bore into the back of his head, begging him to turn around so maybe I could see his face, see the hollowed-out man he had become. </p><p>The draft had taken both of us. Soda had accepted it, and I had practically denied it until I had to leave. He was always so much braver than me, so much braver than all of us. He was always first in line at rumbles, chest bent forward, arms twitching at his sides, and a predatory smile on his face. I was more likely to be found on the sidelines, though close to him. It dawned on me that that's what I was doing now, no matter if it was against my will or not. </p><p>It felt like hours and minutes passed before we got the signal to move. I pushed forward, aiming for Sodapop so we could fight together one last time. The mud on the ground slowed me down, clinging to my boots. That's what saved me. The bombs went off all around us, gunfire echoed through the air, and dirt and mud sprayed us, blinding us. </p><p>I was knocked back, my head slamming on a rock. Everything was dizzy, my breath had been knocked out of me during the fall and every breath felt like sharp stabbing pain to my temple. The screaming of wounded men sounded far away for a few moments, though once I was able to get my bearings, I realized where I was. </p><p>War. Right. </p><p>I looked to each side of me, nauseated by blood and open wounds as I rolled onto my back, trying to find him. I followed where I'd seen him last or where I thought I'd seen him last. I passed by men, dozens of them it felt. I had lost my gun in the fight but still had my knife and pack. </p><p>I saw him a few feet in front of me, no more than five, and I painfully crawled over to him. He was losing blood, breath fast as he held his stomach where shrapnel had cut him. </p><p>"Hey, it's gonna be okay." I crawled over to him fast, scooting up next to him so that I was able to cup and turn his face. "Look at me." Soda nodded, turning to me with pain. We both knew he'd die here. </p><p>"I'm sorry, Stevie-" Soda began to apologize, but I just shook my head. I knew he'd wanted to apologize for getting hit, but we both knew it wasn't his fault. Soda reached into his vest pocket, shaking red hands pulling out the note we all had to write before we went into battle. It detailed what we wanted to be done with our bodies, what our last wishes were, and our goodbyes to our loved ones. It dawned on me that I'd be the one to give it to Darry and the rest of the gang. I took the note with shaken hands, putting it in my pocket to rest next to mine. </p><p>"Talk to me, please." Tears swam in his eyes, flowing down his face like rain down a window as he scrunched his face in pain. I couldn't deny him this. I couldn't deny him peace during his final moments. </p><p>"Did I ever tell ya about the time Pony and I fought off some socs? We were at the drive-in and they cornered us, switches out. I broke a bottle for him, but he never used it." He laughed at that. Pony was never confrontational, never really wanted to fight seriously. "We both had to shuffle our way along with fence as they tried to take swings at us, but the bunch of 'em were drunk." Soda's face was pale, a smile on his face as I recalled the memory. He knew Pony and I never got along, he thought we didn't like each other, but we did. " We got home and we agreed to never tell anyone, he thought he'd get in trouble because he got in a fight, but I was just glad we didn't get hurt." I felt tears swim as his breathing shallowed, the puff of air against my face cold. He wasn't opening his eyes. </p><p>"God, Soda, please, just open your eyes. Please." My voice broke and my hands shook as I cupped the face of the dead man. He had a smile etched onto his features. He was so cold. </p><p>I knew I had to move, but I couldn't. I'd need to deliver the note, give it to Darry, then never look at Tulsa again. </p><p>I thought about what I would do when I had to give it to Pony. I knew his face would fall and then bunch up as he tried to blink through the tears that would fall anyways. I thought of the face Darry would give me as he pulled me into a hug and sobbed into my shoulder. </p><p>I couldn't move though. I couldn't move away from my friend. He was supposed to marry me as soon as we got out. I was supposed to live in an apartment with him until we died at all old age with all our dogs. </p><p>Maybe another time, though. Maybe in our next life. </p>
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